“The only residents remaining in the small town of Miner’s Hill are spirits. We’re on our way there. We’re looking for my late husband, Richard.” Lillian’s hand shook with the Parkinson’s as she lowered her cup to the table. Janet helped to steady her hand so she wouldn’t spill any of the hot liquid.
“No that’s not right at all, Mother,” Janet said, “they’re spiritualists. I don’t expect to find Dad; but hope we can find someone who will help us speak with him – through the veil, as it were.”
Irene, the waitress, topped up Janet’s coffee and asked, “Folks in Miner’s Hill talk to dead people?”
With a slight tremor Lillian looked at Irene, “That’s what we understand, uh huh. We hope to talk with Richard.” Then she smiled and her gaze drifted away.
“That’s kind of an oversimplification.” Janet said. She and Irene looked at each other. “But Mom is hoping for some…” she grappled for the word, “…answers.”